


Morning Delight

by tortoisegirl



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-25
Updated: 2009-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-23 20:17:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tortoisegirl/pseuds/tortoisegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rorschach wakes up to an interesting morning.  Originally posted on /coq/.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Delight

The first thing Rorschach realizes when he opens his eyes is he’s lying in bed next to Daniel. Daniel, Nite Owl, his partner in crime fighting, is lying on his side, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, facing him from across the foot or so of space between them.

The second thing Rorschach realizes is he’s painfully hard.

Well, shit. He freezes, afraid that even his breathing will wake the man next to him and expose this perversity. The thoughts flying though his mind aren’t helping at all, as if even thinking of it will draw Daniel from sleep, but how the hell is he supposed to get out of this, and can he slip out the bed without moving too much, and why is Daniel sleeping next to him in the first place?

 _Because he’s too good to you. He was taking care of you because he’s a good partner and that’s what he does._

The memories slowly cut through the panic and solidify. That’s right, he’d been injured last night. A series of cuts all down his back, shallow but painful, and Daniel had cleaned him up (so careful, trying not to hurt him) before insisting he sleep there and leading him to the bed (of course he saw how tired he’d been). Daniel had sat on the bed next to him and held a cool cloth to his raw skin (he can’t remember the last time someone had tried to make him feel better like that) and he’d fallen asleep with Daniel’s hands on his back (oh god, the feel of those hands).

Rorschach’s own hand drifts down between his legs, impossible stop as he remembers his partner’s touch, to undo his pants and wrap around his cock. Daniel looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping. Rorschach watches the rise and fall of his chest and starts stroking himself in the same even, languid pace as Daniel’s breathing.

Of course his breathing hadn’t been so calm last night, when he’d let out an angry shout as Rorschach crashed backwards through a pane of glass. Lying in the shattered glass, and feeling too much of it pierce his clothing, he’d watched Daniel knock out the last two thugs in a quick one two (so damn strong and fast) before he rushed over. He’d knelt down and spoken calming words (nothing but concern, concern for _him_ in his voice) and hauled him up to walk him back to Archie (Daniel’s body solid and warm the few times he'd needed to lean against him for support).

Rorschach’s hand is far outpacing Daniel’s sleepy breaths by now, and he carefully adjusts his hips to get a better grip. Daniel’s face is so close to his, composed and relaxed in the dim morning light, so unlike it was last night as they limped back into Owl’s Nest.

He’d stripped off Rorschach’s shirt and hissed at the sight of his badly scratched skin, face twisted with worry. Rorschach had flinched as Daniel cleaned him up (only partly in reaction to the pain, he remembers as his grip tightens) but that good man only at looked him head on and said “I’m glad it’s not worse” and his eyes (oh fuck, his eyes), his kind eyes…

Daniel’s eyes are open. Half lidded and sleepy but still open and looking right at him- the way they find and lock onto Rorschach’s makes him momentarily forget he’s wearing a mask. His hand freezes. His blood freezes. Brown eyes bore into him but he can’t look away, like some pathetic animal trapped in the gaze of a predator about to swoop in for the kill, and fuck, any second now he’ll realize, he'll know, he'll-

But Daniel just stares.

There’s a rustle of movement under the blankets. Rorschach braces for the inevitable rejection, when suddenly there’s a hand curling around the one still frozen around his cock. He jolts, but the hand that covers his is strong and the added pressure on his erection sends a shiver through him.

The strokes start again, this time guided by Daniel’s firm grip, and Rorschach gulps at the thought that it’s only his own bony fingers separating his partner’s hand from that heated skin. Daniel’s eyes are still locked on his, and he can’t look away. He’s not sure if he’s even blinking anymore. He’s a deer in the headlights, his mind unable to parse the situation, and all he can do as his hand is pulled over his shaft is look into those wide eyes and bite his tongue to keep from moaning.

There’s something else in Daniel’s gaze too. It’s sharp and hard and Rorschach could probably identify it if his mind were clearer, but as it is it makes his skin flush even hotter and pushes him closer to the brink.

His pace increases as the sensations build and Daniel follows suit without missing a beat. He’s so close, so close it hurts, when Daniel shifts his grip just slightly and swipes his thumb across the head of his cock- the touch breaks him. Rorschach gives a small choked sob as he comes, the only sound that either of them will make as they lie together in bed that morning.

Daniel pulls his hand away, and even with the afterglow washing through him the withdraw leaves Rorschach feeling cold. Now it’ll come, he thinks, the disgust, the revulsion. But Daniel smiles at him- _smiles_ , not a smirk, not a grimace, but a genuine smile – and rolls over to go back to sleep.

With Daniel’s eyes finally out of sight Rorschach finds himself able to close his own. He can’t explain any of it- how Daniel could smile at him, how he can stand to be so close to him after what had just happened- how _any_ of this could have happened at all. Sleep clouds his mind and none of his thoughts are sticking, so he turns over until he can’t see the form on the other side of the bed and hopes that sleep will erase any memory of the past half hour.

He wakes again several hours later with his injured back stinging and the knowledge of his corruption still heavy in his chest. Daniel, in the kitchen with coffee and a bowl of cereal, looks up with a cheerful “Good morning” and goes back to his breakfast as if he hadn’t just played witness to his partner’s depravity. It leaves Rorschach wondering if the whole thing actually happened or if it was just a sick wet dream, a throwback to the unfortunate urges of his adolescence- and he realizes to his horror that he’s not sure which one he wants to be true.


End file.
